Shakespeare asked me to get Kit Marlowe's most recent manuscript in return for an Orichalcum coin and enough to pay my training debt so far.  I agreed.

I went to his house, which appears to have been abandoned for some time, but is being watched by some not-so-subtle secret police types.  I learned a new spell to get his back door open, and checked around. Some of the dusty papers are  correspondence in Sperethial, plotting a trip to the Bahamas. I'm pretty sure that's a code name for something, but I can't quite figure out what.

I concentrate for a moment, looking at the handwriting of this man, Cambeiul, and am granted a vision:
	
A familiar-looking man fights at his side -- Marlowe --
       	trading insults as they aid each other.  They appear to be
       	bitter enemies who happen to be blood-sworn allies.
       	They're jumping... passing through the Netherworld.  A
       	badge flashes on Marlowe's shoulder: a coiled silver dragon.
       	Cambieul is in "modern" times -- machines, computers.  He's
       	wearing a suit.  His sword is still there, but only as a
       	ghost.  He's swinging from a chandelier across a stock
       	trading floor. 
 	You see him opening letters with a letter opener that's
       	his ancient sword in miniature.  It faintly glows with
       	power even in this vision. 
	On the bottom of a fax glitters the name:  Marlowe. 
     	skimming above are the words "resignation"  "scribe"  "Tir"
       	and a date:  August 15, 1990.


I ran out of the house, left a quick letter for Shakespeare
	"I'll be back.  He's gone further than I thought. AAOS, TOO"

and ran into the Globe, bowed to the rehearsing troupe, and exited Stage Left to the Netherworld.  I tried for the New York Public Library, but instead ended up back at the Elven Tir gate, where shortly after I appeared, so did Barton, Tom, and Dana.  They've apparently been in 1990, trying to cause a critical shift to increase Magic Theory in the world.  Shortly after we arrived there, Trowa (a consultant, former comrade-in-arms of Dargo) arrived to help us out.   We sent Tom to talk to Dargo and get his permission to use his handle, and got permission from Dargo.

Once we got to 1990, we landed in NYC.  Alpha contacted us, and he helped me find an address on Temple Place.  I disguised myself as a typical NY teenager and attempted to break into the abandoned Buddhist temple on the site of the former Masonic Temple.

In the temple, I found another address: (address in Wisconsin)